Infertile Ramblings of Surety

A. I smiled at a negative pregnancy test. Why? Did I finally lose it? No, it was something I expected and am used to, which is a semblance of control. And I can go get hopelessly drunk now. Because that is the type of girl I am. It still disturbs me that I smiled. I'm thinking it was a sick, twisted reaction.

B. The combination of the little white pills and the hormones put on a showcase of pregnancy symptoms. Thank you for the continuing hot flashes, spotting, nausea, ravenous appetite, random crying, and the incredibly sensitive, well, headlights. I appreciate the symptoms of pregnancy without actually experiencing a pregnancy more than you'll ever know.

C. Which could have been a reason behind my first pregnancy dream. I've had the one where I gave birth to a puppy (and everyone thought it was normal) and I gave birth to twins (G-B, Clarity and Pacer), but I don't recall one where I was pregnant. In this dream I knew that I was between seven and eight months along. I looked down and could see my belly as I rested my right hand on it. I tried to go back to sleep after that dream in order to erase it, but unfortunately, I remember it with cruel clarity.

D. I was so hopeful when our new health insurance was announced that it *might* *possibly* cover a little more of the treatment side of infertility. The giant folder came out Tuesday and IVF and all other conception assistance is completely uncovered. One of the gals at work went over to the Q&A with the insurance people and reported to me that coverage is nearly the same as our current insurance: 50/50 coinsurance after a $500 deductible on diagnostic procedures and absolutely no coverage for treatment. Same boat, new lake.

E. While a co-worker was yapping about how her stepdaughter was trying to have a second baby, she mentioned that the couple had been trying for a year and went to get tested. They found out that the wife wasn't ovulating, and that the husband has "amazing" sperm. I opened my big mouth to comment "Yeah, that can change," and the co-worker retorted that he'd already fathered their first child. Yeah, it can still change. I didn't care for any "blame" in the situation to be placed on the wife (okay, perhaps I was internalizing a little bit at this point) automatically. Sperm count can be just as fickle as ovulation. Then, my co-worker proceeded to jeer at me (yes, JEER) "Oh, is that C's problem?" and repeated "A, is that why you aren't pregnant yet?" with a shitty grin on her face. I am a rude and brutal truth teller and fortunately, avoided answering the question in a loud, brash way that would make her feel worse than she made me feel. I said nothing to this stupid woman that I have wavered in sharing parts of my story with. I am so glad that I did not share anything with her. And I am saddened that someone with her history (four miscarriages and then a hysterectomy/relatives she loves having trouble conceiving) could be so impertinent and condescending. All in all, a clear sign not to trust her.

F. While I have opinions about our future president, apparently our country chose the candidate they thought best out of the paltry selection afforded us. Since that is said and done, I will merely state that my concerns regard our jobs and our house. So long as we have our jobs (and while they aren't necessarily in jeopardy, each could be reduced in hours), we can pay our bills, and so long as we can pay our bills, we will be fine. Those are my concerns. C, on the other hand, seems to be carrying the burden of -what if- on his shoulders. What if we lose our jobs, the economy fails, we lose our house, other countries attack, guns are taken away, etc. His father is somewhat of a conspiracy theorist, so he comes by these concerns honestly. I was waiting for him to inform me that now was a particularly bad time to have kids, but when, after said waiting, I brought it up, all he said was that he hadn't thought of that.
*The implications of all of this are that treatments are probably still going to be afforded, but the only comforting reality I've allowed myself, that of adoption, is probably getting pushed farther from reach. I have always wanted to adopt, which is to say that I always wanted children, only that for a few years I had no interest in bearing them. C is opposed for many reasons that I don't find valid; the cost involved is one and the analysis of us is another. Suddenly the cost becomes a valid reason in this economy. Yuck.

G. Those of you that know me can laugh if you wish, but I've grown this belly. I am assuming that it is only noticeable to me, but am terrified that if it becomes visible to anyone else that there will be questions, statements, and quite possibly, rumors. I can't handle that. Really, I can't. So even though I have done exactly what C requested and gained five pounds in order to thrust me into a healthier weight range, I refuse to continue to do so if the ramifications terrify me. Which really just means that I should engage in some type of exercise to tone up, strengthen, and build muscle mass. It would be a healthy thing to do and it should get rid of the pseudo-pregnant belly.